Madrigal And Trulletta :: :: University of Virginia Library

Buckramo.
Farewel!—till then farewel!—so hot, my friend?
So very hot?—no matter—let him cool—
He thinks my reason a meer babe, a suckling,
To need the leading-strings of his advice—
But to th' interment—if I should appear
In this unseemly dress, they'll think I come
To laugh and fleer at their solemnity.
Custom, that great, that venerable tyrant
On such occasions, asks, requires, demands
A coat—a coat!—alas!—I have no coat.
Oh insupportable!—oh heavy hour!
Methinks it now should be a huge eclipse
Of sun and moon, that the affrighted globe
Should yawn at the alteration of my dress—
Of all superfluous cloth necessity
Hath stripp'd me. My incarcerated coat
Lies in that infidel confinement, whence
No captive e'er returns unransom'd—how
To fetch the pris'ner thence puzzles the thought—
Lost in a labyrinth, I wander on
Without a clew to guide—O dark estate

Of dull mortality! where reptile man,
With all his boasted intuition, is
More blind than reptile mole—Goosino's counsel
Must guide me thro' this maze.

To fleer and scorn at our solemnity.

Romeo and Juliet.

Custom, a venerable tyrant.

Tancred and Sigismunda.

In this, and the four following lines, our author hath imitated the complaint of Othello for the loss of his wife.

Buckramo's condition seems to resemble that of Sharp in the Lying Valet.

Probably in the pawn-broker's custody—This thought has some distant resemblance of,

That undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveller returns.

Hamlet.

The want of these poetical clews is often complain'd off by buskin'd heroes. Dr. Humbug.